Cicatriz
by iAnneart
Summary: Extreme hatred and infatuation aren't always as clear cut. Lines blur and it's unknown where one begins and the other ends. In rare cases, hatred stems directly from destructive love. All's the same result in the end: attempted murder.


I never done this before...and I'm afraid of what may come as a result.

I know the Thief's King official name is supposed to be Bakura, but I feel like this was outright laziness from the creators. Atem had a different name from Yugi, and I feel Bakura needed one as well. I've seen 'Akefia' floating around in many fics and for a long time I thought it was his real name! I feel it fits him better than Bakura and will be referring to him as such throughout this story.

So the question resulting in this long-ass one shot is the following: After Kul Elna, what type of relationship did Akefia and Atem really have? What _reaally_ made the Thief King resort to selling his soul to Zorc? After all, such extreme hatred can't exist for someone you don't know..

I listened to Sick Puppies's song "I Hate You" in repeat while writing this and I decree it the new theme song for CS.

Ancient Egypt. Duh.

* * *

.

His steps were graceful and silent against the cold polished floor of the royal hallway.

Everything and everyone inside the palace were either asleep or still. All except him of course. A natural night owl, he was always wide awake until Ra graced Kemet again with the sun. And in these godless hours was where he'd wander the palace back and forth until he knew every nook and cranny of each dusting corner and wall. He was fairly certain he knew the Pharaoh's home better than the same Pharaoh. A hushed chuckle escaped his tanned lips as he maneuvered around the halls with ease. Anyone could get lost in this maze of hallways and rooms. Not him. Confidence and leisure shined in lavender eyes, though he never stopped being perfectly cautious. He was a seasoned thief after all, he knew exactly what he was doing.

But today's mission wasn't something trivial or superficial like snatching some gold or jewels.

No, this night wasn't fit for such ridiculous motives. The night was stunning, sky an inky black peppered with beautiful twinkling stars. His ancestors never gleamed so brightly, and Khonsu glittered so white and pure, it called for greatness today. A real difference for his brethren, his people. A chilly breeze whipped its cruel breath around the air and frosting all it came in contact with. Everything in this wondrous night was perfect; everything was a positive sign directly from the gods to continue on his plan to steal the most precious belonging of all.

The destination was in sight. He sneered in contempt at seeing the useless sleeping guards leaning on the brick walls beside imposing double doors which lead to the newly proclaimed Pharaoh's bedchamber. Instead of protecting their 'King' as commanded, they were snoring shamelessly and even worse, drooling over each other. He wrinkled his nose. Disgusting. With the same lithe steps, he approached the heavyset double doors and opened one ever-so slowly whilst checking the guards at his sides briefly to ensure they were still sleeping. Though the process of caution was painstaking, he did this with no panic nor worry. There was no rush for him whatsoever. He wanted to take his time to enjoy this particular night. The chamber was pitch-black with the only exception of a tiny beam of moonlight from a small window, but the white gleam of his hair and sharp teeth from a malicious grin shone like an ode to the moon itself.

He was in.

The door carefully closed once again, and he took time to make sure it was completely shut as the doors were foolishly heavy enough to actually mute any sounds, -_or screams_\- he grinned darkly for the second time, from inside. Even if the guards awoke now, and they were to stupidly storm in the chamber, he could easily spin a tale on how the Pharaoh requested his attention at night. They would easily believe him as his 'services' were almost always at night as requested by the immature King. They had no reason to think otherwise. After all, why would they ever doubt the ever-loyal slave of the Pharaoh?

Now that his sight became accustomed to the inky darkness, he could see the grand royal bed in the middle of the exquisite room. He approached the left side of the bed, staring at who slept on top of it. Beneath the white threaded sheets, lay the outline of a wild haired young man slumbering peacefully and with a shocking lack of gold accessories with the exception of his lower arm bands. Without royal dressings, he did not possess the air or regalia yet to be recognized as the Ruler of all Kemet. He still had innocence in his face, an almost endearing naivety in his loose posture and messy spiky tri-colored hair. For some ungodly reason, the Thief gave a small smile.

Innocence...the boy neared twenty-one years and he still hadn't lost it. It almost reminded him of happier times, when he was a joyous little boy playing with his friends by the rivers, or begging his mother to tell him bedtime stories of magical creatures that only came out in fantastical duels. His purity however was lost much earlier than his counterpart. At the tender age of 7, it was horribly destroyed at the sight of his family being burned alive for the power of some pieces of wretched gold. And that was the only piece of gaudy jewelry which stuck out among all of the others scattered on the Pharaoh's makeshift stool of sorts right beside the bed. The Millennium Pendant.

His smile disappeared, eyes hardening to a cold stone gray and he placed a tanned hand on the bolster of his favorite dagger. After a few tension-filled seconds, he reluctantly retracted from the weapon. All in good time. Emerging moonlight coming from the window could catch the silver of the dagger if he pulled it out right now and glint in the Pharaoh's eyes. If he actually wanted to succeed, he needed to do what he always did. Play it safe.

His knee pressed into the bed slowly. He waited for a second before his other leg swung to the other side of the bed, effectively caging the young King's waist with his knees. The sleeping royal didn't even move an inch, he slept like the dead. He steadily lowered his body down, until he sat gently on the soft warmth of a lean muscular body. He took this time to look down at the face of the boy beneath him, and with each passing second he let his weight press down more on him.

The sleeping one's eyebrows crinkled, and he gave a small groan of confusion and displeasure, fidgeting uncomfortably. The Thief grinned and completely let go of his entire weight in one fell swoop, which made the royal exhale sharply.

Beautiful crimson eyes opened groggily.

"...A..Akefia?" A hoarse voice caused by sleepiness caressed the thief's ears like a melodic whisper.

"Hello _hem-ek_." He purred back, a chuckle threatening to escape his lips at any moment. In response, the other scoffed in a mixture of displeasure and adjusted himself flat on his back so Akefia could sit properly. "I already told you not to call me 'Your Majesty'. It's Atem."

"My sincerest apologies my _Pharaoh_.." He whispered with a tinge of a mock in his tongue, even bowing down with a hand behind his back. Atem looked up at him crossly, or well as much as he could still feeling half-asleep, still not believing his long-time friend and servant had the gall to cheekily give him titles of nobility and then do something vastly inappropriate like crawl on top of him in the middle of the night. But he never reprimanded him either, so there could be some fault of his part too...

"Is there any valid reason you are sitting on me like I am a mere piece of furniture?" He crossed his arms and attempted to inject real anger to his statement, but it sounded more amused and curious than a real scolding to both of them.

"You? A mere piece of furniture? Do not speak such blasphemies my King, as you are much more than that..." Akefia untangled the smaller arms so he held each hand in his much bigger one. His velvety dark voice sent wonderfully cold chills down his bare back, and he trained his eyes to the muscular bronze arms, keenly observing their strength and power. Atem let out an slightly-wavering breath.

Was the slave here for the reasons he thought he was?

This internal question was immediately answered when the same white-haired man firmly pressed his palms on each side of the bed, intertwining fingers on the sheets, lowering himself little by little. This time, the Pharaoh found it almost impossible to even inhale. Blood-red eyes bore into relentless lilac ones, neither one of them able to tear their gaze away. A wide grin decorated the Thief's face as he saw the high-and-mighty Atem bite his lip slightly in anticipation and a tinge of nerves. He swooped down quickly until both of them shared the same breath, lips a mere hair's width away from each other. A small gasp rang in his ears, and he smiled down at wide eyes. He could see a slight blush starting to decorate his partner's cheeks and this made him uncharacteristically delighted. He leaned in a bit to the side and licked his lips.

"_...Don't you think?_" He spoke huskily into the shell of the boy's ear, which resulted in much more noticeable shivers - a sight he enjoyed immensely. He sat back up, and those pleading slightly disappointed ruby orbs asking him 'why do you pull away?' made him want to throw his head back and laugh uproariously. How in the hell was he so naive to not notice the blade ingeniously hidden by the same rustled bed sheets besides them? How could he ever think all of this was true? Instead, his own eyes lidded as he lowered himself ever so slowly back to the Pharaoh's longing face. Though the royal said nothing, those eyes told him everything. They lit up in a happiness only Akefia was graced to witness time after time, and only in these situations. Only when the sun went down and their bodies pressed together.

Atem's eyes fluttered closed, feeling the puff of warmth breath coming from the man on top. It seemed complete centuries passed before he felt something akin to skin hovering so closely to his mouth and he, the impatient King that he was, leaned in. Their lips finally touched and like always, the sensation was heaven. He couldn't help the sharp inhale as they kissed, he just could never control it, no matter how many times they did this, again and again. The thief's mouth curled upwards in a vicious smirk pressed against Atem's, letting go off his smooth not-calloused palms. Such an spoiled bratty little boy...

Touzoko's hand curled around the handle of his dagger. He needed to ready himself for the perfect moment. And yet...It was a little hard to get the plan in motion when the dark-haired Pharaoh kept on biting his lip, urging him to respond more fervently. Not only had the thief learned how to play the instrument that was his_ Pharaoh's_ body until he sang in pleasure, but Atem knew exactly what buttons to push, what to do and at the exact right time; he knew precisely what his '_Thief King_' (the nickname he himself granted to the older man) needed. They were professionals in each other, each with the distinct knowledge in how bring their partner to the brink and back.

Well, he wasn't in a hurry right? A little while more, enjoy his spicy warm lips for the last time. What was the harm in that?

Bronze fingers began inching their way across his naked back, and only until he touched a particularly fresh wound was when he attacked. He didn't like the Pharaoh touching his brand-new welts, and he had to be punished.

He ravaged Atem's mouth, biting harshly and pulling until the tan lips had small bleeding cuts and were raw. The one being attacked gave out a small pained sound at the abuse the man on top was all too happily giving and tried to pull away but the damned thief didn't let him. He did all the opposite of what his King wanted him to do and deepening the kiss with a prominent push from his tongue. "Mmh!" The boy tried to pull his head away in disapproval, not liking the rough treatment at all. It occurred to him the bigger man only started his painful assault when he touched wet scars on his back.

That didn't make sense. Akefia relished every single second when his sensitive scars were caressed. A question mark popped in his head. Wet scars? No. Fresh wounds. Red eyes widened for a second and he broke the kiss apart, even if the other didn't want to. He looked directly at him with a questioning glance. Akefia narrowed his eyes at him, his chest rising a bit more than normal. "What?" He spat, angry Atem interrupted his kiss only to look at him strangely.

"The guards haven't been following orders have they...?" The royal young man murmured, his orbs downcast as if ashamed to look at him. For the first time this night, the white-haired Egyptian was confused.

"What?" He repeated his question, now with no irritation. "They've been whipping you again!" Pure anger deepened the Pharaoh's voice, and his eyes looked like boiling blood. "Damned scum. The same ones from last time?" Akefia didn't respond at this, surprise still taking control of his tongue as he didn't think the boy cared enough to know what the higher ups did to him. After all, he was a thief turned by force into a palace slave. Why would anyone here care about his well being? He thought this and immediately cursed at the foolish thoughts. He was obviously lying to himself. Of course, Atem cared. He always cared.

Even when he was still only a prince and they had just met a couple minutes ago, he immediately asked him if he wanted more food and if he felt comfortable in his sleeping quarters. Being a stupid seventeen year old bitter boy, Akefia of course said fuck no, as it was the truth. His bed consisted of a straw pillow and maybe a thin ratty cloth for a blanket, and all the entire week he'd been there, his daily food was a meager piece of bread and slightly dirty water. It was not wonder his ribs were starting to show. And maybe, he hoped in his evil little mind, the prince might get in trouble for fraternizing with a mere slave. He might even get whipped, he thought excitedly. After all, he knew exactly who the young child was. The son of the Pharaoh, the evil son of a bitch who slaughtered 99 people of his village. After hearing the angry teenager's response, twelve year old Atem went on and threw what could be said as a temper tantrum to his father and his council about why they were treating the slaves worse than dogs.

Unfortunately, the prince's punishment never happened. But surprisingly, Akefia and the other slaves received a well-deserved upgrade in living standards (though not by much). It was a bit disorienting since he never believed complaining to the young royal would bring any fruitful consequence. Yet, it did. Soon after that, Atem took a specific interest to Akefia, and his well being. He always checked up after him and constantly slipping his food if the rations were particularly dire that day. He liked him for some unknown reason, and he decided they would become 'friends'. Even so, the physical abuse never stopped, as the other guards were particularly envious at the prince treating a disgusting common slave so equally. Why the Pharaoh was barely noticing right now was a mystery to him. Maybe because he didn't have his slave robe on like he usually did.

"Those motherfuckers will pay." The royal Egyptian gritted out between clenched teeth, fists tightening on his back. "Tomorrow, I'll send out the order for them to be executed. Effective immediately."

At that, the white-haired thief's eyes widened. He certainly hadn't expected such an extreme punishment for those who had been torturing, whipping and raping him since his (forced) arrival to the palace, but he was more than glad. It didn't matter he wasn't to live for tomorrow, it was the thought that counted in the end. A dark grin spread on his face before attacking his lovers's lips once again, taking Atem by complete surprise. This attack was much more gentler and pleasing to his bruising lips and the surprise slowly faded into amusement. He knew it was Akefia's way of saying he completely approved of his method of punishment for the scum making his life a living hell.

"You're definitely taking up to your power as Pharaoh, aren't you?" He murmured sensually. "I didn't think you had it in you." The thief growled seductively before claiming his lips once more. This time, Atem was more than happy to oblige. Their tongues wrestled for dominance all the while the one beneath raked his nails gently on the healed parts of his back. A low growl emitted from his slave, and he smirked against his lips. He knew the thief loved it when he did that. He was rewarded instantly.

"AH!" He cried out when the older man suddenly ground down on his lower body and attached hot lips to his neck. A sudden heat started to coil up in his lower belly, steadily growing unbearable. His breath turned erratic and shallow, and his eyes closed of their own volition. He felt his heavy head sink in his fluffy pillow more and more, relishing in the touches and kisses his lover knew made his skin sizzle as if everything was aflame. His senses, his heart, his nerve endings... The thief certainly knew how to wind him up, he was always a Ra-damned tease, it made the Pharaoh furious and at the same time it was as if he was flying higher to the sky.

"Akefia, I-"

Atem wasn't in control of his ragged voice nor did he give his mouth permission to speak. His feverish words were cut off as he fully arched his back to experience the fiery warmth of Touzoko's kiss.

"You..." He purred in question, lips searing butterfly kisses down his neck and starting to tease his right shoulder. Atem was close to break, he could tell by the incessant lip biting. He was going to say it like he always did.

_I want you to fuck me hard you bastard._  
_I need you, bent over right this instant._  
_Remember, you brought this on yourself!_

There was no shyness or timidity in these words anymore. They've done this wonderful dance too many times to stop for absurd bashfulness. All slight variations, but he still said the same lust-fueled thing. To fuck or be fucked, it really didn't matter to them. They were content with both positions and never demanded one to always top or to always be bottom. They were happy with fucking in general, but only with each other. One unspoken rule however, was that Atem always was the one to say it, the one to decide unanimously if they were to have sex that night or not.

And Akefia waited patiently, leaving love marks on the younger one's neck while he did. He knew him so fucking well.

He was seconds away from saying it...

"_Komeca shuun leiampa_ my Thief King."

It took a while for the words to actually form in the white haired thief's mind, and when it did, he immediately stopped his onslaught on the royal's bruised skin. He sat up, blank lavender eyes graying almost to an incomprehensible level. Atem bit his lip, closing his eyes for a second and cursing himself in his mind. Of course, he had to fuck it up with his imprudent tongue. For a small instant, his mind hopefully stated he didn't actually hear him. But he knew, it was naught. The Thief King heard him loud and clear, he was sure of it.

"Touzoko...?" He inquired softly, and it made the dark gaping hole at the bottom of Akefia's stomach widen enough to make him feel like he was about to fall in it. He could not respond, he could not blink, all he did was stare blankly at those fearful crimson orbs, its owner waiting apprehensively for his reaction. Would he even do anything at all? Akefia looked like a living statue atop of him, almost like if he wasn't breathing at all.

"Akefia," He pressed on a bit more firmly, hands shaking tanned thighs in order to rouse his Thief King. The man in question saw from the corner of his eye, that damned silver glint of his dagger lying right beside Atem, the weapon mocking him with the knowledge of his partner's ignorance. He didn't even know. He wasn't aware of absolutely anything. And he suddenly felt sick to his stomach, he felt like he wanted to vomit and bash his head in the nearest wall to stop having so much horrible feelings and goddamn conflicting thoughts at one time.

_Whatthefuckiswrongwithyou?_

There is no reason for conflict. He's the fucking enemy! He's always been the enemy.

..._I simply forgot_.

It was all pretend, nine years of pretend friendship. Four years of pretend romance. He just never figured out why the pretending of both came out so fucking naturally to him, and how Atem could make him forget he was the enemy for most days. It was horrendous, shameful. His fingers touched the hilt of the dagger from the bed, rage filling his vision, filling his veins. Anger at this stupid boy for saying such a stupid thing, anger at his bewitching eyes and kind personality, anger at himself for unconsciously (or consciously?) shutting out his ulterior motive so many times. Even now, in which he specifically came to end it, to avenge his people's death like the only way a criminal and thief knew how and...

...He preferred to kiss him instead.

He couldn't fucking believe his own mind. The self hate, the anger overtaking his mind and soul bubbled over. Akefia looked over quickly at the slightly curved knife beside his partner, and the regal Egyptian immediately followed his line of vision. He tilted his tri-colored chaotic hair slightly, detecting a slight glint of something akin to metal among the sheets. It only took a split second for him to realize exactly what that metal was. "You-" He manage to whisper in disbelief.

Touzoko's free hand went up to wrap itself tightly against the Pharaoh's throat before he could even gasp, and his dagger immediately followed by pressing it to the jugular. Atem's eyes shot wide open as he felt the harsh freezing blade bite into his still searing skin, and he looked at the thief before him with blazing red eyes, those goddamn eyes filled with betrayal and sadness, wondering and asking the same devastating question: _why are you doing this to me?_

The blade shook against his skin, and it manage to nick him ever so slightly. Drops of thick blood oozed out, and stained his attacker's fingers. Glassy fuchsia orbs burned a smoking hole into the stoic lilac ones for ages. A horrid dangerous silence blanketed them, and both their glimmering bronze chests heaved up and down erratically. Beads of sweat peppered their skin as both realized from here on and then, there was a high chance one of them was going to die.

"You fool." He imagined himself saying with a arrogant sneer, as if trying to stop himself from laughing. He pictured this moment hundreds of time. And yet, when he spoke these words, they were soft and pained. They weren't powerful, they were weak. He was weak... NO! This isn't how Atem's last minutes should happen! He needed to know exactly why he was going to murder him, he needed to know he was victorious and strong. He willed his voice to be harsh and angry, not sad and pitiful.

"You don't even know me and you say '_I love you_'? To your slave?" He shook his head, white locks covering his eyes slightly. "How stupid can you be...?" With those words, the Pharaoh's eyes turned glassier by the second. So shimmery and shiny. And it made him feel sick to his stomach again. It baffled him so much, he began to grow furious.

"LOVE? There never was any fucking love between us, my Pharaoh! There wasn't even real damn friendship!"Akefia's voice shook slightly as he shouted. "Didn't you ever see? I could never stand you! I absolutely LOATHE you. And you speak to me about goddamn love?!" A lone sorrowful tear escaped his victim's blood-red eye. It trickled down his perfect tanned cheek, shimmering with the moon like a twinkling star in the night sky.

"...Why?" A hushed broken voice shattered his eardrums and his resolve. Breathe in! Retain the rage in!

He took a deep breath and continued with a much steadier voice. It was time.

"Let me tell you a fascinating horrible story. Once upon a time in Egypt, a very bad man by the name of Akhenamkhanen felt like he needed more power to oppress the people of Egypt just a bit more. His god status simply wasn't enough for him." There it was. The well-known, stifling yet oddly comforting poison of revenge flowing through his veins, clouding his mind and darkening his heart. Now, lavender eyes flashed in anger, but at the injustices suffered by his people. Yes, he felt like he should be feeling. His lips curled up in a sneer, white teeth glinting sharply.

Atem's mouth tried to choke out a few protests at the mention of his just and right father as an evil one, but the thief wasn't having any of it. The dagger pressed closer to his slightly-cut skin, making thin rivulets of blood slide down his neck. He leaned his scowling face against the other's, hissing out. "Don't you even dare say anything in return, my _Pharaoh_." The title, which used to be a pet name Atem found endearing, was mocking and insulting and the grip on his throat tightened.

"He needed more power and he figured out the perfect way to do it. Not only would he receive seven powerful gold items known as the Millennium items, but it was the best way to address a village said was filled with thieves and murderers. All vile _LIES_." He spat out viciously, fingers on his neck like a boa constructor slowly sucking out the life of its prey. But it turned out the Pharaoh still had the bravery to hiss out in a rasping voice.

"_You_ are the only who lies, thief. My father was a good man! He didn't pursue power for greed-!"

"HE DID!" Akefia roared as he shook him by the throat, shrunken irises shaking wildly. Instantly he started to cough violently, but it only made his anger grow. Atem calling him a goddamn liar, it enraged him more than he cared to admit. After all this time, after knowing him for so long (because he did know the thief well, more than anyone even if he vehemently denied it), his mind instantly told him he was a LIAR? "Your father was the absolute scum of the earth, not dignified to even lick the soles of my feet!"

Atem snarled ferociously at the man above, enraged at his revolting words. Even it wasn't wise in his current position, he couldn't stop himself from leaning his face directly to the thief's. The knife bit in more, and more blood trickled down. "How DARE you, low-life vermin, insult my father!" He furiously choked out as best as he could, voice like a scraping wheeze.

"You, the Pharaoh after you, and countless of other Pharaohs for eternity will remember the name of Kul Elna. You will all pay for the suffering."

At that, the young royal stiffened in complete shock.

Atem himself asked the seventeen year old when he barely arrived to the palace kicking and screaming with shackles at his ankles and wrists. He asked the new slave where he was from, and for the life of him, he never understood why that stunning white-haired boy glared at him with so much venom in his lavender eyes (it was a miracle he didn't drop dead from the raw unadulterated hatred directed straight to him). That hatred was familiar hatred. There is no such thing as hating someone you don't know, and the hatred blackening stunning gray-purple eyes seem dedicated to someone in which you share a long and horrible history with. But immediately after that, he wiped that horrid furious look from his face and gave a sneering smirk to the younger boy.

_"I come from a small quaint village. Very nice and friendly. You should definitely visit." Being a foolish child, the prince thought he was being genuinely friendly and excitedly asked him. "That sounds great! What the name of the village?" The white-haired boy merely snorted under his nose, and casually stated. "Kul Elna. You haven't heard of it, I'm sure." At this, Atem laughed nervously. "I can't say that I have. But it sounds wonderful all the same." At this statement, he saw the hatred blossom beneath his eyes once again, but the boy strangely smiled at him. "I'll be sure to fill you in about it."_

Akefia's home village was the crux of his rage. Something happened in Kul Elna to make him want to kill Atem for only being the Pharaoh's son. But none of it made any sense! His father was revered by all as a kind and just Pharaoh! He never would do anything to ANYONE to invoke this type of fury and revenge. He just couldn't believe a slave could be imaginative enough to come up with such fantastical accusations and stories. All of what came out of his mouth couldn't hold any truth, it was just not possible. He KNEW his father! It was not a feasible option.

"But you know what?" The Egyptian said laughingly, white hair sticking out more menacingly like small knives, adding to the aura of pure madness and insanity that was the Thief King. He was at the verge of screeching in hysterical laughter, the knife slowly losing its bite since he was too distracted in giggling like the damn maniac he was. Immediately, the young royal noticed his mistake, and choose to wait at the opportune moment in order to break free. But first, his attacker had to be too far gone in his giddiness and anecdotes to notice.

He held his breath. The anticipation was so great, confusion from his part was overabundant. What the hell was the thief so happy about anyway? His lie-riddled story didn't seem to have any remote bits of humor to it at all.

"It's funny how the Palace wept and mourned Akhenamkhanen's passing, but at the same time, it wasn't as painful for them to say goodbye. He was sick for a very long time, after all. Most of the council and royals couldn't ever admit it to your precious innocent face, but they all thought he was better off dead." He let out a snicker, all the while the Pharaoh's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "He was suffering so much from this unidentified sickness, it was better for him to be out of his misery!"

"My father, " Atem barked out. "was not some type of mangy dog you mercy kill. You speak pure hatred, worthless _slave_."

"But yet... no one knows.." He continued on, now with light playful tone which made the horrifying chills arouse in him like Death itself climbing up on the King. "No one knows why they never could figure out what exact demon was perpetrating your father's illness. Priest after priestess and nobody could decipher it! No one never even stopped to think the symptoms of the sickness are very similar, if not identical to the poisonous effects of a...very interesting mineral. "

Atem went still as a stone, staring blankly at the thief animatedly continuing on.

"Mixed with a shitload of natron, it is called by some as the 'fiery poison' as it feels like it's burning you from the inside out. But...only a few droplets of it every other day in the water of the Pharaoh, can make for a very long and very, ahem, subtle death. Like an illness! A slow..." His lips curled up in a manic grin.

Atem's eyes bloomed in the deepest blood red possible, shaking irises large and whites wide.

"..._slow _burn." Akefia finished with a malicious sneer.

Time stopped.

A silence filled the dark room again, one so evil and dangerous, even the moonlight wasn't as strong, and everything seemed a bit more darker. More foreboding. The white-haired thief held his breath slightly. He found it strange his victim hadn't cursed his name and his ancestors or, completely broken down in relentless sobs, it was almost like he was shocked to the point of numbness-

Next thing he knows, his body is flown back a good twenty feet by two inhumane tan arms. He sailed across the room like if he was made out of straw, and crashed to the compacted floor so horribly, he swore he heard bone cracking when he landed. He's disoriented and dazed, he has absolutely no clue what the fuck just happened, all he knew is that a sizzling searing burrowed deep in his ribs, tail bone and pain pulsing through his head. The skull made direct contact with the ground and actually bounced back. "What..." He manage to croak in panic, suddenly realizing neither hand had the dagger. He then heard a scream of pure ire, and it was at that exact moment Akefia realized he was in deep shit.

His breath suddenly felt like it was punched out as Atem's body landed on top of his own with such a powerful momentum, he was surprised he didn't suffocate right then and there. He recognized a familiar gleam from silver metal above him, a shaking tan hand wrapped around it. All he saw next was a clean swoop of his knife, like a scythe of reflective motion...

...and his right eye suddenly exploded in excruciating white-hot pain.

Akefia shrieked at the top of his lungs, hands instantly covering his injured eye. The pain was so intense, for a second he felt absolutely blinded by it.

"YOU..._**BASTARD**_!" Atem roared out thunderously, enough to make the entire night sky cower in fear. Gripped tightly in his hand was the shining bloody dagger, crimson droplets falling from the silvery surface. Even the gods were terrified of the livid young Pharaoh, his pupils looked crazed and irises nonexistent, his hair rose up like it never had before, like lightning bolts emanating from his head.

"WHAT HAVE YOU _DONE_?!" He gave off a charge of horrifying electricity that threaten to burn his skin off. In a vicious hiss, he tore the thief's hands away from his eyes, and the white-haired Egyptian noticed his palms were coated with blood. Another roar of unadulterated wrath filled the room, and Akefia barely managed to catch a glimpse of the tip of his favorite dagger speeding up dangerously close to his vision.

**SLASH!**

"My father gave you a HOME!" Atem was uncontrollable. He was like an animal. Akefia screamed once more in the agony, trying to cover his eyes but Atem did not permit it. He swung backwards with the knife, and-

**SLASH!**

Again. More horrid shrieks. "_STOP_ IT!"

Two more violent gashes on the exact same eye. Akefia's good eye bulged almost out of his socket, and he literally felt like vomiting nonstop from the pain. Tears streamed from both eyes, salty water fading in the steady flow of crimson blood running down his face and dripping like a puttering stream to the floor. This time he could cover his eye, but a lot of good it did him. It still burned to the high heavens, more than anything he ever experienced in his life. The blood couldn't be staunched, shiny ruby red still streamed out from his fingers.

"I gave you EVERYTHING! And this is how you REPAY us?!Is this how you REPAY **ME**?!" This time, the injured Egyptian looked up to Atem's still red face, the overwhelming rage still strong. But along for the ride, the anger combined with pure hurt and betrayal in equal strength. Tears also dripped down his beautiful devastated eyes, the droplets of water splashing him in the chest.

"BY **_STABBING_** ME IN THE BACK?! BY MURDERING MY** _FATHER_?!**" The Pharaoh roared out once more, a whirlwind of insanity in his eyes.

The bombardment of his fury suddenly seemed so familiar to him. It reminded him of that fateful day when he became an orphan, a small weak boy with nobody in the world but himself. He saw the anger, the hurt, _everything_ in Atem's eyes but it didn't bring any joy to him. All the contrary. He wanted to close his eyes, to shut out the horrible sight but it was not possible. He had to fix his vision to him, to see the grayness overtaking his orbs and his expression becoming subdued. The tightly-gripped knife rose up more than usual, above his head. He rose the bloody dagger up with both hands, as if prepared to stab him straight through the heart. He looked back at Akefia's widened eye, shaking his head so slowly, his gaze full of heartbreak.

"I trusted you..." Atem's voice completely cracked at this point, emerging sobs threatening his inhaling breaths. "You c-can't Atem," Were the only whispered words expelled from his dry lips. A trembling hand went up to touch the Pharaoh's beautiful heaving chest, with such a gentle caress it even surprised himself. But the knife rose a bit more and sped down.

"NO ATEM, PLEASE!"

A large _crack _sound filled the room_. _The knife shattered into thin mirror-like shards against the stone floor right beside the white-haired thief's head. He twisted his neck to see his prized dagger completely break beyond repair, and strangely wasn't angry or sad at his crushed relic. Relief filled his veins, because he'd rather have it shattered at his side than embedded deep in his heart. He tore his gaze from the destroyed weapon back to the young man hovering above him. There was no rage anymore. No anger or thirst for blood. Only a deep sadness bleeding into those stunning, wonderful, fading eyes.

_"...I loved you."_ He whispered brokenly, red irises fading to gray. His words terrified Akefia, because they caused his hardened heart to jump wildly in the cage that was his chest. Hearts don't jump, nor do they rouse out of hate. No they live for love-

"But now I can't be more disgusted and repulsed by you." The Pharaoh's distanced voice didn't help his wildly running thoughts. He detached his hand from his bloody eye and clenched his fists tightly. His traitorous organ beating so harshly and quickly, and it ashamed him. It angered him. A bloody fist crashed into Atem's jaw with no warning, and knocked him right off his body. He hated!

He did, he only hated...

He scrambled to this feet, facing the young man head on with determination set in his scowling face. Pharaoh stood up quickly from the punch, wiping off the blood from his lip and cocking his head to him as if saying _Come at me, bitch_. At this signal, they both attacked. Each going for the Achilles heel, and punching and kicking, scratching with no mercy. They fought like vicious animals, and it seemed the only way this battle could end was in death.

"I..hate you." The thief wheezed out after a particularly brutal kick to the chest. And he repeated it in his mind.

I hate you.

I hate you.

IhateyouIhateyouI**fuckinghateyou-!**

"And I hate you." Atem spat viciously, words full of scorn. He ducked a left hook but a white-haired head crashed into his stomach, causing painful coughs and rasping wheezes and they both tumbled down together, exchanging fists and bruises instead of kisses. Bringing forth pain instead of pleasure.. Akefia's entire right side of face was completely caked in blood, courtesy of his eye and that dripped down to lead dried rivulets on his muscular chest and abs. His counterpart's mouth however, was so bloody, he had to periodically spit the crimson liquid until it resembled small poodles everywhere they crashed into. His throat, being nicked by Touzoko's dagger, bled nonstop until it smeared like a smooth paint across his pectorals. The ugly purple almost black bruises could be seen from practically every edge and corner of their body. In a sudden move, Akefia crashed his knuckles to his opponent's mouth and blood spurted like a fountain from his split lip, but he rolled on top of him and jabbed directly at his right eye.

Amid his torturous screams, Atem smiled wickedly. "You'll have something to remember me by, My _Thief King_. Forever."

Snarling, he managed to elbow into his side painfully enough to overpower him and give a good solid punch to his eye. He grinned at the pained hiss the royal exhaled, and he knew that would be a hell of a black eye. Even more so since he had the advantage of having some (stolen) jeweled rings on his fingers to help him inflict more damage. Indeed, there was already a painful bleeding gash right at his eyebrow. "And now YOU have something to remember me by, My_ Pharaoh_. Fuck forever."

The dark-haired Egyptian growled fiercely and tackled him to the closest wall, pinning him and using the gold band of his arms to choke him out. Darkness started to color the thief's vision, and he knew he needed to do something fast. The blood loss from his eyes and from various parts of his body already had him dizzy and with impending unconsciousness looming over him, he couldn't fight the man who still had strength to spare.

Within a second, he realized the Pharaoh had pushed them into the double doors of the bedchamber opening.

Perfect.

Seeing tanned fingers in front of his face made him do a split-second action he never thought he'd do. He took those fingers in his mouth and bit them.

Hard.

Immediately, Atem shouted in pain and dropped his arm from the thief's throat. The opening! He tore away from him, flung open the door besides him, and took off running. He never ran so fast and hard in his life, but he didn't stop running. He heard the Pharaoh's enraged voice scream at the waking guards to bring the lowly thief to him, dead or alive. He heard commotion behind and knew that couldn't be good.

Dead..or alive. They would kill him. He was willing to _kill_ him. And he ran harder. Harder and faster. He had an advantage the guards didn't. He knew the palace better than anyone and he knew exactly where to go, if he needed to make an emergency escape. A left in this corner, two rights over here, another hidden hallway in a bit, and a jump over a second story window into scratchy bushes. He was safe. But now the palace was alight with movement. Guards were looking for him everywhere. Orders of the Ruler and all.

Akefia still needed to run, run from the central of the city and into the horizon of the desert, as if trying to hug the full moon. And so he did, he ran until he felt like he would pass out from exhaustion and then he kept on running after that point. He passed the usually bustling but now deathly quiet trading market, and the common residences. The Pharaoh's army would be chasing him throughout Egypt, and he needed to know he at least reached his safe place. The good thing he was close to his home, where nobody ventures.

The ruins of Kul Elna.

He panted incessantly, his lungs felt like they were about to explode. Finally his tired feet slowed down, but a little too abruptly and the tired thief tumbled down to the ground of his abandoned home. He was here and it was all that mattered, even if he had a real fear he was about two seconds from dying. The sorrowful spirits of this land will guide him to the afterlife if that came to happen. And as he lay there in the dirt, right smack in the middle of the deserted village, behind closed eyes he replayed everything the Pharaoh said to him that he'd never said before.

Liar.

Slave.

Worthless.

He growled and reluctantly stood up shakily, looking for the nearest watering hole. It was important to at least wash his right eye's injury, or it'd most likely get infected. Soon enough, he saw the calm clear waters waiting for him and he splashed the life-giving liquid into his face. The ripples in the water waned, and he clearly saw the damage. Atem by a miracle, did not slash into the eye itself. A deep long gash ran down from his bottom eyelid, actually splitting the skin in half and blanketing the whites of his eye in pure red, to almost reaching his chin. Two smaller slashes horizontally adorned the wound, and even if he painstakingly took care of the injury, he was absolutely sure it would leave a prominent scar. Akefia growled once again when the water cupped in his hands came back murky and red. "Damned bastard." He muttered before dropping the dirty water and cupping clean water to splash his eye. The cold soothed his wounds, but Atem's words inflamed his soul.

_**You want your revenge, isn't that right thief?**_

A dark layered voice suddenly rang in his mind. Akefia stiffened at the horrifying sound, and whipped his head back and forth but only saw what the moon saw fit to let him see. In other words, nothing. And he was sure, the voice didn't assault his physical ears but it actually came from within his brain.

_**And you want to forget your love and embrace your hate**._

He inhaled shakily, frankly terrified at this voice violating his mind. Who the fuck are you? He demanded panicking through thought. After hearing no response, the thief looked down at the watering hole in order to splash some more water in his face. Maybe he was going insane. Maybe he was hallucinating and he needed a good night's sleep. The maybe's stopped when Akefia's reflection on the water blurred away to show a dark red-eyed demon staring back at him. And though he wanted to scream and run for the fucking hills, for some reason, those red eyes...blood red crimson eyes kept him hypnotized. Entranced.

_**I can take away the love. Atem's name will soon bring only darkness to your heart.**_

The demon knew.

It knew of his deepest disgrace. He lowered lavender eyes, biting his lips in anger. How could HE, the survivor of the Kul Elna massacre, end up falling for the enemy? No matter how much he pushed for the hate, the word always rang hollow and there was no emotion at all. Only anger. Overabundance of anger but never hatred.

_**Give me your soul, and become part of me. I will take the pain away. I will take your shame away**._

Black tendrils and shadows arose from the depths of the ground and misted over him invitingly. They touched him, and the cold chilled his blood.

_**Swear eternal loyalty and you will be victorious. You will kill the Pharaoh**._

The thief pictured himself succeeding and releasing his people from the infernal hold of the millennium items. Their suffering would end and they could finally go to rest. Happiness. His heart swelled in it. And then he saw himself grinning, standing over the dead body of the Pharaoh, one foot pressed against the carcass in pride. And his heart cracked. He actually felt it crack and it hurt so much, his left eye blurred in unshed tears. Take it. Take it all away! He screamed in the recesses of his mind. The Thief King had no place for love. For weakness.

He need to triumph.

His thoughts were all the agreement the demon needed. Deep evil chuckles began again, starting from his mind. The demon's laughs grew darker and bigger, until it enveloped his own human reasoning and thoughts. Now it was Akefia's own lips were the ones who laughed so loudly and maniacally, the entire desert seemed to echo his cackles to all corners of the world. His weak heart became silent, and the love was ripped away in one fell swoop.

_**With Zorc by your side, nothing can ever phase you. **_

It purred almost sensually to it's new host.

This phrase marked when he felt the beginnings of authentic venomous LOATHING for the precious King of Egypt. True dark HATRED is only invoked to the person who was once loved deeply. The betrayed and the wronged are the one who hate the deepest, the ones who hate the longest.

_~**Nothing can ever tear away your hate**.~_

Atem betrayed.

Akefia wronged.

A mutual hatred which can last for eternity.

.

.

* * *

..

Wow. Ended kind of dramatically there. So...never though I'd do a Casteshipping fic. I'm just as surprised as you are.

And I LIED about the beginning. The question which actually got this story in motion (at least in my brain) and THEN made me think of the intro question was actually this: What if Atem was the one to give the Thief's King's famous scar? Hence the title of this story, Cicatriz, which means 'scar' in Spanish.

Well if you liked it, please review !


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